The Killing Moon
by Epithelial
Summary: Kakei dreams of what is and what can be, given a little time and the right opportunity. And he is terrified. RikuoKazahaya, KakeiSaiga, RikuoTsukiko.
1. Under Blue Moon I Saw You

**The Killing Moon **By Heroin Girl

The street on which Green drugstore was perched on ran precariously for many blocks, eventually falling out of the better part of town and into the slums. Glittering neon signs advertised topless bars and every kind of poison for every kind of person. The dark street was illuminated every couple feet by signs like so, masking the sight of scattered newspapers and broken glass. Every thing was hidden, masked, but there was no escaping the taste of the air. It was thick, almost suffocating so, and it was hard to inhale with out gagging on the smoke and just the godawful _smell_...

It was the air of a people who didn't care about anything beyond seeing the girls behind the women with the tired, heavy breasts. It was the place for a people who needed the cheap, strong drinks. It was for those who had decided long ago that they didn't care, they knew that they were allowed not care and be cared for.

You go down an alley, following some inner, base prodding. You do not know what you are doing right now, and you are reminded of those T-shirts that loftily proclaim: OUT OF MY MIND. LEAVE A MESSAGE. Avoid the potholes, cover your mouth and try not to inhale too sharply. You do not look that man in the eyes, you do not touch the broken nodding junkie, calling out weakly for some one she had known long ago, some one who she saw in every one. Do whatever is necessary, look but what whatever you do, do not see. Trying to ignore the rain is harder than you thought. The drops are becoming increasingly colder, and you shudder and one runs the small of your back. You regress the urge to flee. It is stronger than you thought possible, tearing you apart. "Like bringing water to the dead..." The junkie would have told you (You do not know how you know this, it is like the direction you are going in. You just _do_) if you had stopped to listen, blinking slowly, grasping your hands in her sharp, shrill fingers. "Water to the dead..."

You follow the alley for another few minutes, alone except for the faint thudding of your bare feet on the rough pavement. You do not know why you aren't wearing any shoes, you have everything else on. You shrug, lost in the moment. Something catches your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You stop. And stare. The pollution of the massive city had long ago changed the very foundation of the city sky, turned it into a slow, shimmering dark-light orange, with a hint of purple. The light of nothing but the sky outlined the Boy's body, colouring the blood on his arms and clothing black. It was a full moon, but the Boy was fully encased in shadows. You do not know why it refused to touch him, but something in the back of your head whispers because it was a full moon and the moon's child (Tsukiko, you tell yourself, her name was Tsukiko) did not like the Boy. She might have had something to do in all of this, you think, wanting to cry for her. She shouldn't have been jealous. As much as the one she loved loved the Boy, you didn't have anything but a small, nagging doubt in the back of your head that if she came calling, he would leave with out a second thought. For a horrible, bitter moment, you hate him; hate him for doing this to the Boy. The feeling quickly fades, leaving nothing. You are hollow, a true tribute to the elements and the Boy's eyes. The acidic stench of blood returns quickly though, like a blow to the gut it leaves you breathless.

His hair was the only thing that stands out, a shocking mass of hazel with blonde highlights. Gore gleams softly off it. It must be refusing to wash off in the rain. You go foreword, place your fingers gently on his eye lids and try to close them. They are cold. Your fingers feel sticky, almost alight with the hurt in his eyes. The air has turned into something completely different from a few feet back, it is sour with his panic and pain. Get to your feet and stand over him, touch his shoulder lightly with your foot. His body will bend to your request and for the first time, you can see the full extent of his injuries. He is not wearing a shirt, the tattered remains of one and a jacket in the corner behind the dumpster. He is ripped open, stomach gone and oozing blood, for you and all of the world to see. He is lying on his back, a hand (the colour of a plum, already fading dark yellow at the edges) thrown carelessly on his chest, just before it caves into the ruin of skin and organs. The other arm is nestled in his hair, the still perfectly whole fingers entrapped in the blood locks.

The gleam of intestines will pull you out of your trance. Some later authority figure would later find that all of the fingers on his right hand are broken in several places. He is beautiful in death.

A noise sounds behind you. You whirl around, eyes large and frank, and you know that you were caught in your peeking game, guilty in seeing the dead and having the audacity of actually touching the Boy... maybe it's not true. But in the eyes of the man standing before you, you did. He surges foreword (you hear a small gasp and heavy sigh of pain) and gathers the Boy up in his arms, not minding the fluids soaking into his clothing. The limp arm fall off his chest and the man takes it in a free hand and presses it to his cheek, turning the palm over and kissing the blood.

Turn to leave. Do not witness this. Do not get trapped to the spot, seeing something bigger than you and most of the world, do not care. Remember his eyes and the blind, rough panic. Remember the weight he seemed to have as you turned him over; remember the beauty he had in death.

Go and never forget, go and warn the Boy and the man he loved, the man who loved him, so this would not happen. So he would not have to find the Boy's body, ripped apart and left for dead. Go and warn the children of the future to fear the night. DO NOT FORGET.

And as Rikuo begins to cry, you let yourself awake with a heaving gasp.

**---**

A sharp intake of breath. He sat up, clutching his stomach where **his **had been torn open. The sleepy haze had began to fall away, he blinks and realizes that he is no longer in the alley, he is at home in bed and he can hear Saiga's even breath beside him, calm and almost hypnotic, if he had had the time to let himself be lost in the other.

Some thing was nagging him. He could not let himself remember what had woken him up so fervently, but he could taste the faint coppery flavor of blood and it had been raining...

"Like bringing water to the dead," He murmured, pulling a hand from his side to ruffle his hair and rub his eyes. Sighing, he reached for his glasses. Sudden light poured into the room with a click of a lamp switch. He squinted and turned his head, where Saiga was looking at him questioningly. "I had a dream."

"I know." He pulled Kakei down with him, buried his face in his hair. He caught a few flickering thoughts of the dark haired man, he was wondering how he could be so small and frail in his arms and still be so _strong_... He pushed the thoughts away. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. I don't really remember. There was an alley, and so much blood... The air was sour. Someone was dead."

"Oh."

He looked up. Saiga's eyes were dark brown, almost as dark as his hair, shot with streaks of gold. He wanted to kiss those eyes.

"I know that I need to remember something. It was very important. I know that it was..." He furrowed his brow. "I need to remem..." He trailed off, biting his lip and tasting the blood again. **So very beautiful in death... **"Oh God." He pulled out of the tangle of arms and turned over the corner of the bed, was violently sick. Saiga's hands were in his hair, pulling it back and resting his head of the small of his back. He gagged once more but had no more to give. Bitter tears blurred in his eyes and his fingers were so cool, contrasting deeply to his skin, he was so fucking hot and --

**all of his fingers were broken, as if he was trying to ward something off but failed miserably. **

He wiped his mouth on his arm, checking in the urge to vomit once more. He knew. "I remember," he croaked hoarsely. "They killed him. Kazahaya, I mean. Ripped him apart, left him to die in an alley. Rikuo will find the body." The stubborn tears began to fall.

"When?" Saiga's voice was quiet in his ear, always the calm one. And for a wry, bitter moment, he hated him for it. _I would like to see what you would do with these dreams_, he thought acidly,_ I think I would like to see how you handle this type of hurt! _He pushed the tart feelings to the back of him mind. Now was not the time.

"I'm not sure. A full moon. I'm sure Rikuo will appreciate the humor in it."

"We'll just keep him in during the next couple full moons," He said, beginning to make small circles with his palm on Kakei's back. He focused in on the feeling, trying to calm down, when Saiga's other hand tangled up in his hair. He could feel a apart of him giving up, leaning into Saiga's rationality, even though he knew that there was so much more to the situation then what met the eye.

Then a sudden flare of anger: "That's not the fucking point!"

Silence followed the outburst, like dreams after a nightmare. Everything felt dank, and he was unbearably weary. Saiga cleared his throat, as if he didn't know what to say. "Then what is?"

"I think Tsukiko has something to do with it," He murmurs.

"What?"

"I think that Tsukiko had something to do with it. There wasn't any really strong evidence, but it just had her feel to it... If you know what I mean. I don't know. She's watching us, you know that. Wouldn't she be jealous of how close they've become? Even if nothing has happened yet, you see the way he looks at Kazahaya," He said, pausing to draw in another breath. "He loves him."

He realized how brazen the statement really was, but he knew that his lover wouldn't mind, knowing fully that the truth was there. "What do we do?"

"We tell Rikuo the whole thing. If we gloss it over, he might not take it as seriously. We tell him what we saw; maybe just not that she is near. It's amazing that he hasn't been able to sense that yet, but I think all of the close proximity to Kazahaya just might have dulled his senses. We do that in the morning. We still have what, another two weeks until the moon is full? Plenty of time to get him to calm down."

"And Kazahaya?" Saiga asked as he began to stretch out as languidly as a cat, still keeping his arms and hands entangled in Kakei.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "We tell him nothing."

**---**

"Rikuo."

He turned, arms full of boxes of cough medicine. He cursed as one fell out of his grasp and the faint tinkling of the glass bottle sealed his mood. Something was wrong today. Something big, he just didn't know what. Dark blue medicine began to leak slowly out of the box, quickly moving to his shoes. He cursed once more, forgetting that Kakei was standing right in front of him.

"Rikuo!"

"Oh-- yeah, sorry." He mumbled, carefully placing the remaining boxes on the shelf.

Kakei's gaze softened. "I need to talk to you."

The sincerity in his gaze almost frightened Rikuo. The nagging broken record in the back of his mind began to play at full speed, repeating one thing over and over. Something is not right. Something is not right. Something is not right...

"Where's Kazahaya?" He asked, looking around the store. It had been oddly silent for the last coupe minutes, and he realized that weren't even any customers in the store. He was all alone.

Kakei smiled. "Saiga took him out for ice cream."

"Oh."

"I need to talk to you." The air suddenly turned bitter, alight with the seriousness of his words. "It's about... Kazahaya." He looked at the light haired man expectantly. Then, almost too quiet to hear: "And Tsukiko."

"What about her?" The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he could hold him in. This was it. He was going to tell her that she was dead, that he had failed her, broken his promise to find her. It was all over now.

"This is hard to say..."

"Then come out with it!" He screamed, desperately to be proven wrong. Kakei faulted in the face of his anger. He instantly regretted the anger that he had so brazenly shown. Now was not the time, not the time to lose control. _Then when is?_ A little voice asked in the back of his head. _When can you get angry? _

"Kazahaya is going to die unless you do something for me. For the next full moons, you need to keep him in. It doesn't matter what you have to do. You cannot let him out."

The words felt rough, almost tumbled as they came out of Kakei's mouth. "What? How?" He breathed, eager for more information, even as his mind balked at the idea of Kazahaya even being hurt, let alone dead. He would not let it happen. He refused.

The light haired man paused. He could see his mouth contract, then open, and close. He didn't know what to say. "Tsukiko has something to do with it. I don't know what. I saw it in a vision last night. It was very brutal, he is almost ripped apart. They didn't do it quickly. Took their time, made him suffer unimaginably." He paused. "You would have found his body."

Kakei inhaled, suddenly seeing the dead eyes of a boy who he loved like a son, saw the wounds and o god it just hurt so much... It hurt to see anyone like that. But for someone he knew personally, who he had gathered the group of people to protect, lying in the rain like that... It was unendurable. It was horrible. It was a hurt that he knew would stay with him for many years, knowing away at him slowly. It would kill him if it came true.

Rikuo stumbled back. "You... You liar! She would never hurt him! She would never even..." His words broke. He shuddered, leaning against the shelf.

"You love him, don't you?"

His eyes slid up to meet the others. Kakei's breathing was fast, ragged around the edges. "You know that I do."

"Then protect him!"

His eyes turned past Rikuo's form, hunched over and arms folded over his sides, as if trying to hold in all of the emotions that could so easily tear the store apart if left out. He was suddenly reminded of a picture of a person who had survived a holocaust. Rikuo's heavy, hollow set eyes screamed of a dark chasm inside that few could understand and even fewer would know. He reached out and took the younger man's hand in his, relished in it's cool, dry feeling. "I know that this will be hard for you. I know how hard it is to just be around Kazahaya when she's out there some where, and you don't know how she is. But you need to listen to me: he will FUCKING die! You have to save him!" He leaned in Rikuo, surprised at how small and fragile he seemed at the moment.

"I… I can't… I mean, if I did, would she be hurt? … Why else would she be involved in it?" He asked, untangling Kakei from his abdomen.

He drew in a shaky breath and smoothed the front of his white jacket. "She has some thing to do with it. She _knows_, Rikuo."

"What?" The words seemed to rattle around in his head, and his spine flt as if it had been encased in ice.

"She knows that you love him." He walked towards the door, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up. Rikuo was staring at him, the dark green orbs flooded. He had murder in his eyes.

The sudden, neon noise of glass breaking. Kakei turned sharply, just as the bottles of various medicines began to shatter. Shards began to rain the isles, and he was reminded of rainbows of many different colours, joining together and mixing from the light of one man's pain.

"What did you say?"

"She knows." He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. "I'm so sorry that we haven't told you, but he thought that it was for your best. She's not stable, Rikuo, she's not entirely in her right mind, and she'll hurt you, she'll hurt Kazaha--"

A fist connected with his face. He fell back wards, smacked his head on the broken glass. His vision went white then purple, and he was aware of his heart beat in his ears, the blood on his face and Rikuo was trying to talk to him, but he had to wait a moment before he could listen. " --THE FUCK COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, TO HER? I SHOULD RIP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF! I SHOU--"

The front windows shattered. A few girls screamed and crowded along the sides of the macabre sight, he could hear their titters and see the flashing shapes of their uniforms behind the isles.

Then silence. Rikuo turned towards the door and began to walk calmly through the bitter triangles and slivers of glass, each making its own noise as he left. Raw terror ran around inside of Kakei, twisting and turning until the very existence of time seemed to be no more.

"Stop! Don't leave! Please, you can't you're the only thing that can save him…!"

It was too late.

Rikuo was gone.

And in the darker side of his heart, he knew that Tsukiko was going to get her way.

Kazahaya was going to die.

And they could do nothing about it.

He laid his head down on the floor, focusing on the tinkling of the glass. He knew that his hair would be sticky and almost absentmindedly, he raised a hand to his face. It came away stained red with already clotting blood. "…fuck…" he murmured, finally letting his weary eyes close. He made no move to get up.

**End of Chapter One.**

No comments on this one, except for the fact that I don't own. There is one typo that I couldn't find when I was uploading this chapter. The word 'felt' is 'flt'. And it's bugging me, I know it's there. I just can't find it. Grr. I like this fic, so if you don't I don't really need to hear about it, yah? But, if you really want too, you can tell me what you thought (good, bad, what ever) when you REVIEW!


	2. So Soon You Will Take Me

_I've changed mypen namesince the last time I updated.My love to allof you who reviewed: you have my sincere apologies for takingso long to update.Before I forget: The title of this fic is taken from the Echo and the Bunnymen song, The Killing Moon. The titles of the chapters are clips of the lyrics. I don't own._

**The Killing Moon**

Chapter 2 (_So Soon You Will Take Me…_ )

By Ithelial

Rikuo was running. The steady pulse that beat in his ears, the sound and the feeling that his feet made when they touched the ground, and the wind in his eyes reminded him of why so many found running to be cathartic. But he could taste the city on his lips, harsh and bitter. And for a moment, all he could think of was wanting to stop and get on the next train out…

But it was time he stop running from things that were out of his hands.

"_You're the only thing that can save him!"_

So he would go to herTry to save Kazahaya--he couldn't pretend, even to himself, that the boy meant nothing-- and he would just be with Tsukiko. That was all he wanted, he told himself, and that could ever be. Nothing more, nothing less. But the aching pain in his stomach when Kakei told him that Kazahaya was going to die scared him. He wasn't ready to be feeling like this, not for any one, and for the love of god, he was only seventeen. It wasn't right to feel like some one had just hollowed him out at some fucking words--

He had too much to deal with, and drawing personal feelings into the mix would hurt more than help. He slowed down to a walk, hands shoved in his pockets, as his thoughts turned more tumultuous than he wanted. He would find Tsukiko, but he didn't know what to do about the brunette that had invaded his life so rudely (a small voice told him in his head that that was unfair, after all, he had been the one to pick _him_ up). He knew that he loved Tsukiko. But he also knew that it was a love that was so incredibly close to be twisted, turned into some thing that in another life, he might have been scared of.

He realized long ago that what he had been feeling wasn't completely right. She had been the one who had raised him, his father's half sister, the one who was whispered to dabble in the dark arts, the one with the ink pot of hair and the scarlet slash of lips. He had kissed those lips, wrapped his fingers through her thick hair and pulled her closer, tasted her skin. He had watched her close her eyes and look at him with nothing but the uttermost love, and he had felt unworthy of her.

He knew now that he was.

Turning the corner, a vision caught his eyes.

There she was. The dirt and the decay around the both of them seemed to glorify Tsukiko, made her skin glow, her eyes shine. She looked no different since the day he had seen her last. She raised her head and looked him right in the eyes, lifted her hands to invite him closer. "Rikuo!" She called out throatily, a small gasp of delight escaping her rosebud lips.

He fell to his knees, the dull thud barely registering in his mind. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, his whole power of being was focused on the revelation of beauty in front of him. She reached out her hand, the slim fingertips barley grazing his temple. "Rikuo…" Tsukiko, the moon's child, the woman who haunted his dreams, his nightmares, every waking moment sighed. She took a step closer and suddenly found herself crushed in his embrace, arms wrapped fiercely around the back of her head, her shoulders. "It's alright." She buried her face in the junction of his neck. "I'm here now."

And nothing mattered anymore. As he let her lead him away from the small slums of the city and into the grander part, past the busy people going their own ways, never to look each other in the eye, he wanted to lose himself in her. Everything became a blur, he couldn't think beyond her touch, the way the light summer dress still felt cool in the winter air, the way it flowed on her.

The next time a conscious thought crossed his mind, he was pushed up against a wall, the cool plaster behind him, Tsukiko pressed up to his chest. He supposed that they were kissing, the strange melting feeling giving it away. He tore his mouth away from her, panting. "Where are we?"

She smiled. "Private loft. It's all ours."

And they were together again.

Clothing was removed, piece by dreadfully slow piece, and then she was all skin and tasted _delicious_.

And just before the wonderfully bitter release of climax, a thought was pushed oh-so-rudely into his head.

Kazahaya, lying in the rain, eyes staring blankly foreword, blood on his hands and chest. Light glistening off the sickly sheen of fluids, leaking onto the ground surrounding him, Kazahaya, hurting. Kazahaya, dead.

And he pushed it to the back of his mind, and tried once more to lose himself in her.

But this time it was harder.

**---**

"Will he be okay, Saiga?"

"Yup. You know Kakei. The only thing that can hurt him is himself."

The faintly murmured "ho, ho!" of Saiga's laugh echoed through his head. He groaned, drew a hand up to his head. The effect was calming, sitting down and settling upon the air, changing the very atmosphere. He felt like he could breathe again.

He knew that he was lying down in some part of the drugstore (and for a hazy, flickering moment he did not know what the drugstore was, until an image of a clean, white building came to mind), he knew that he hurt like hell. He knew that he wanted to take the dull ache in his jaw and throw it out the window that he also knew was hiding behind the ugly, dusty cream-coloured curtains that Saiga always insisted on keeping up--

"SAIGA!" Kakei screeched, sitting up and feeling the full brunt of the ache in his back and head. Quiet footsteps at his door, the light brown hair peeking in before Kazahaya stuck his head in. His face looked feverish, cheeks flushed brightly. Kazahaya bobbed his head, eyes darting around the room that he was apeartally seeing for the time.

"Uh… Kakei-san? Saiga asked me to keep an eye on you…" He stammered. Kakei felt an odd sense of displacement run through him, not nearly as strong as the one that he experienced when he first woke up, but enough that his heart gave a little start. It was so _odd_, not having Saiga there with him. He was always there, and he had promised long ago never to leave.

He was not yet foolish enough to think that Saiga had meant never to leave his side, but he was the first thing he saw in the morning, the first thing he saw at night, provided that he wasn't caught up in a particularly heavy vision.

"Kakei-san?" Kazahaya's voice was strained, obviously uncomfortable with the weakened persona of his normally put together boss.

Kakei was weary. He wanted nothing more than to just close his eyes and fall back onto the bed, dream of things that had nothing to do with the people he loved. But he _needed_ to know how to keep his ward safe… "Rikuo." Kazahaya's head stood a little straighter, a thoughtful frown etching itself on his features.

"No, Kakei-san. I'm _Kaza-haya_…" He enunciated his name with enough grandeur that Kakei lost the flare of anger. Kakei sighed, shoulders sagging.

"I was asking for Rikuo, Kudo." A small smile wormed its way onto his face. "Have you seen him?" _Has he come back to you?_ Was the real question that was struggling on his tongue, but he knew that the less stress and the less that Kazahaya knew would be for better. A twinge of guilt rose in Kakei's gut, he pushed it down. He would tell Kazahaya what had ensued when it was right, when they were all together again. _You're_ _doing it again, Tsukiko-san_, he thought, _breaking us apart. _

Kazahaya shook his head. "No. Jerk left me to clean up after the damn robbery. I can't believe that he took today off."

Kazahaya was not stupid. He knew that something was going on, but neither Kakei nor Saiga would tell him anything. After coming back from the restaurant, hands still sticky with the melted ice cream, they had been welcomed to a circus at the drugstore, complete with police and an ambulance.

Kazahaya had gotten swept up in the excitement, nearly going into hysterics after he had seen the condition of the store. Everything was broken or crushed, from the cold remedies to the boxes of condoms. But the glass had evoked something much more inside of Kazahaya, he was reminded of the time when Kei had cut herself with a carving knife, to show her brother that she could, and her blood and the disinfectant had looked like the Drugstore did now… Colours molten to the point where there was no defining hue, just darkening ooze spreading to infect the bubblegum pink and sea greens that had exploded on the walls, ceiling, windows.

Kazahaya knew that he was a lot of things, not particularly patient or observant or quiet, but he knew that there was only one person in the world who could make a store _explode_ with out actually hurting the building itself. And for a spilt, terrible moment, he was petrified of Rikuo.

The mess and the fear of the Drugstore had reminded him of his first home, and Kazahaya had to tear himself away from the crowd and run back to the bathrooms, where he had vomited, the ache in his gut never leaving. The violent smell and almost sweet taste on his lips, the tears in his eyes, the mess in the toilet. **These** things were real, they would not hurt him. No one at the Drugstore would.

After speaking with the police, Saiga had spoon-fed him some bullshit story of a couple of punks who thrashed the store and roughed up Kakei-san a bit. They were already caught; the insurance claims already filed. Nothing left for him to do but clean up the mess left behind.

But that had still left the question of Rikuo. He was MIA, the last Kazahaya had seen of him was the face of his newspaper at breakfast. He had been silent, even more so than normal, and Kazahaya knew that Rikuo had felt it too. The ambiance in the air was one of unease. And it still was, he knew that it still would be until Rikuo came back.

And the fact that Kakei-san had some how made Rikuo angry enough to attack him… These were things that could not be ignored.

"Kudo-kun?" Kakei's voice was soft, but it got the job done. Kazahaya jerked guiltily, his face flushing even more.

"Ah… Sorry," He muttered. "Uh-- Saiga-san told me to tell you that he'd be back in an hour or so. He didn't say where he was going, sorry…" Kazahaya bit his lip, looking like he needed to be off, doing other things.

Kakei smiled graciously. "Thank you, Kudo. I'll call you if I need anything."

The door closed and Kakei was alone again. He sighed, falling back onto the bed. There was no point in trying to tackle the mess that Rikuo and Tsukiko had left for him when he was still injured, even slightly so. He closed his eyes and tried to think of pleasanter things.

**---**

When Saiga arrived back at the store, he was greeted with a virtually unchanged mess. Nothing had been swept, the sticky mess of the medicine was not even close to being pried off the floor, shards of glass still lay everywhere. He sighed, knowing that in order for this to get done with in his lifetime; he was going to need to help Kudo with most of it.

He had tried to follow Rikuo's tracks, but he had lost it after about a half mile. Saiga knew that he had met up with Tsukiko. There was nothing else to explain it. He had been filled with the terrible anger when he had seen Kakei in the back of the ambulance, head wrapped up, a bruise already formed on his cheek. There had been nothing else, just the sight of him hurt and bruised. Nothing had mattered but making who ever did it pay. But then he had seen the store. And he had known. And as much as he wanted it to stay, the anger had dissipated. He could not blame Rikuo for the snap. Saiga knew that he would have done the same, if some one had tried to keep him from Kakei like that.

But it _wasn't_ the same. Saiga loved Kakei with all of his heart; there was nothing that would ever change that. He was bound to him in the very core of their psyche. Some one they had both known a long time ago had called it inertia. She had explained that they would be like that for the rest of their lives, no matter the time or situation. And Saiga had spent a hell of a lot of time looking forward to the lives that they had ahead of them. He wasn't going to let Rikuo or some fucking accident or Kakei himself take that away from him. They _deserved_ it.

And when he walked past the wreck of the front building and into the bowls of the flat, into their room, he could have sworn that the room was different somehow. But that was silly. Nothing had changed.

He walked across the room, quietly throwing off his shoes, and lifted the down blanket and crawled in. Kakei still had not stirred. But that was fine, all Saiga wanted was to just lay there with him. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms (and remembered that he was still in his trench coat) around the smaller man. Kakei's head flopped onto Saiga's shoulders, eyes stirring briefly as he began to wake up. "… Where did you go?" Kakei whispered, voice still filled with the heavy tendrils of sleep and medication. He pretended not to notice when Kakei's voice slurred the tiniest amount.

Saiga let out a little laugh. "You can see the future. Shouldn't you know already?"

Kakei burrowed his head into Saiga's shoulder. "I don't even want to try to see what's going to happen. It hurts."

Saiga frowned. "Have you been getting headaches when you have a vision? Fuck, Kakei, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because that's not what's happening." His voice paused, almost cracking. "I don't want to see Kazahaya like that." Saiga looked at him and carefully gathered the rest of his small body into his arms. Guilt coursed through him. He hadn't stopped to think about how much seeing Kazahaya die had effected his lover, even though it had happened a scarce two days before. A seed of anger rose in him. Kakei had always known when he had been anguished over something, it didn't matter how significant, and he had let him down. All of the knowledge that he had been hurting and there had been no one to protect him from it washed over him like a dark sea.

"I'm sorry…" The simple apology was more than enough; his voice had conveyed all of sudden frustration to the man half asleep next to him. And nothing else needed to be said. He let Kakei sleep. When the shadows in the room grew larger as twilight approached, Saiga was heavily lost in the place before sleep. He knew that there was nothing to fear in this room, in the building that they had made their home, but that didn't do anything to stop the heavy curtain of unease from settling into the very frame of the room. He breathed it, took it in.

And he knew that nothing could stop it from mixing like concrete and eating into his very bones.

So he pulled the blanket tighter around him and Kakei. Fear might kill them when they awoke, but they were safe here, in the warm bed where all Saiga could see was Kakei, and where Kakei dreamed no dreams, stuck and safe in the darkness of nothing. His face was blank.

**---**

Kazahaya bit his wrist to stop the small whimper from escaping his lips. He was alone,standing by the edge of Rikuo's door frame, hands curledtightly around his ribs.It had really sunken in when he got back from scrubbing a good portion of the Drugstore, still expecting noise of some type to come from the empty apartment. Even though Rikuo never really talked as much as he could've, he still wasn't silent.

There had been nothing as he walked through the door, no one to greet him but his pale reflection on the window panes. And it had _hurt_, hurt more than most things he had ever felt, because it was just like everything that had ever happened to him. He had never minded being alone, but the sheer weight of that fact had hit him like a punch to the face. Rikuo was gone. And Kazahaya knew who he had been left for. (_she had hands like small birds, pale and thing. Rikuo had loved her hands, and he had known somewhere deep in his head that his love for her would know no bounds-_-)

It was his fault, he thought to himself. If he hadn't have left Kei, then he wouldn't have ever met Rikuo, he never could have ever had to loose him. And Kazahaya knew that in his heart of hearts that he liked to play the role of victim. He knew that if he was stong in independent, like everything that he had ever admired in Rikuo and so many others, then people would leave. They would see no need for themselves, because the lamb being led to slaughter had suddenly grown claws. Kazahaya shook his head. It was bitter and ugly and worst of all, the truth. But now was not the time.

So he had run into Rikuo's room, not able to stifle the sob that escaped from his guts. Seeing everything like it was the night before, the bed's covers thrown to the floor beside it had really cemented in the fact that he was gone. None his things were missing, Kazahaya thought hazily. And that might have been the worst of it all, because it meant that Rikuo hadn't sat on the thought of leaving Kazahaya (the Drugstore, his mind corrected him) for monthes. He had left and had been fine with it.

But when he had let his hand stray from the tight curl in his ribs that he had been holding, his hand went to touch the bed. Just lightly, skimming over the sheets and a pillow. But the familiar rush of air that he felt on his skin but knew really wasn't there made Kazahaya flinch; he knew what was going to happen.

_The vision had literally knocked him off his feet, he could feel the pain blooming in his back when he hit the floor. He quickly scurried back. He knew where he was. He had seen this before. Rikuo was standing in the doorframe of a kitchen. His face contorted, and Kazahaya could barely watch as the man who was always so strong leaned over and vomited._

_He had also not noticed the stench until Rikuo began to cry. It was copper and came from somewhere very dark and wet. And oh god, he knew that he smelled things that should be inside people, wrapped tight in their rib cage and deep under skin. It was seemingly in the very air itself. He was having a hard time breathing. He tried to stand up, but fell back; there was something on the floor._

_Blood. Everything was a dark hue of red, a horrified scream rose in his throat. No. No, it wasn't like this. He couldn't be here and know that he was here, he couldn't see Rikuo cry. It didn't make sense and he couldn't breathe, each breath stolen from his chest ragged and harsh._

_Everything glistened; he was scared to cover his eyes, scared to look away--_

And then he was back, back from being lost in a memory. Kazahaya let the weak scream rip from his lips, bashed his head against the palms of his hands. He could taste the bitter tears and bile in his mouth, but he knew that he had no more to throw up. He shoved the dry heaves down roughly. Now was not the time. Kazahaya's stomach quivered. _It's okay, it's okay…_

And in his seventeen years, Kudo Kazahaya had never re-lived a vision. Kei had once told him that if you used up the essence of a memory, then it would never be back. It had comforted him when he was younger, because it meant that he would only see the nightmares once.

Kei had lied to him.

And the name that was fluttering in his stomach told him where Rikuo had gone. _Tsukiko_….

He would leave the small apartment when the sun hit the window panes and made them shine. He would find Rikuo, or the girl that Rikuo had loved, the one who had a smile like molten glass.

Kazahaya smiled to quench the fear growing inside of him. And for a split second, he felt the ghost hands of someone brushing his cheek. He heard his name whispered reverently, and he wanted so badly to just stop the idea in his head and go back to playing with the concentrate of ghosts. It would be so much simpler, safer, it would keep him alive.

But he never turned around.

**End of Chapter Two.**

_Tsukiko the home wrecker. Is it weird that I like that idea as much as I do? This chapter isn't my choice edit-- I'm not at my house right now, and forgot to save my preferential chapter. It's baisically the same as here, but with a few minor tweaks in words and such. I tried to remember as much as I could, but it's not the same. I'll try to put up the better version soon. _

_And now a question for all of my readers: Has CLAMP really, truly ex-nayed Legal Drug? Because I've heard that it's just on hiatus, that there will be no more, ect. Do they even know? Any clarification will be greatly appreciated. **R-E-V-E-I-W**!_


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